"J'ai vu le soleil et la lune Qui faissient des discours en l'air _J'ai vu le terrible Neptune_ _Sortir tout frise de la mer_."

Panard's song, which occurs at the end of a vaudeville produced in 1733, ent.i.tled _Le depart de l'Opera_, refers to scenes behind as well as before the curtain. It could not be translated with any effect, but I may offer the reader the following modernized imitation of it, and so conclude the present chapter.

WHAT MAY BE SEEN AT THE OPERA.

I've seen Semiramis, the queen; I've seen the Mysteries of Isis; A lady full of health I've seen Die in her dressing-gown, of phthisis.

I've seen a wretched lover sigh, "_Fra poco_" he a corpse would be, Transfix himself, and then--not die, But coolly sing an air in D.

I've seen a father lose his child, Nor seek the robbers' flight to stay; But, in a voice extremely mild, Kneel down upon the stage and pray.

I've seen "Otello" stab his wife; The "Count di Luna" fight his brother; "Lucrezia" take her own son's life; And "John of Leyden" cut his mother.

I've seen a churchyard yield its dead, And lifeless nuns in life rejoice; I've seen a statue bow its head, And listened to its trombone voice.

I've seen a herald sound alarms, Without evincing any fright: Have seen an army cry "To arms"

For half an hour, and never fight.

I've seen a naiad drinking beer; I've seen a G.o.ddess fined a crown; And pirate bands, who knew no fear, By the stage manager put down;

Seen angels in an awful rage, And slaves receive more court than queens, And huntresses upon the stage Themselves pursued behind the scenes.

I've seen a maid despond in A, Fly the perfidious one in B, Come back to see her wedding day, And perish in a minor key.

I've seen the realm of bliss eternal, (The songs accompanied by harps); I've seen the land of pains infernal, With demons shouting in six sharps!

[Sidenote: PANARD AT THE OPERA.]

CHAPTER IV.

INTRODUCTION AND PROGRESS OF THE BALLET.

The Ballets of Versailles.--Louis XIV. astonished at his own importance.--Louis retires from the stage; congratulations addressed to him on the subject; he re-appears.--Privileges of Opera dancers and singers.--Manners and customs of the Parisian public.--The Opera under the regency.--Four ways of presenting a pet.i.tion.--Law and the financial scheme.--Charon and paper money.--The Duke of Orleans as a composer.--An orchestra in a court of justice.--Handel in Paris.--Madame Salle; her reform in the Ballet, and her first appearance in London.

[Sidenote: A CORPS OF n.o.bLES.]

After the Opera comes the Ballet. Indeed, the two are so intimately mixed together that it would be impossible in giving the history of the one to omit all mention of the other. The Ballet, as the name sufficiently denotes, comes to us from the French, and in the sense of an entertainment exclusively in dancing, dates from the foundation of the Academie Royale de Musique, or soon afterwards. During the first half of the 17th century, and even earlier, ballets were performed at the French court, under the direction of an Italian, who, abandoning his real name of Baltasarini, had adopted that of Beaujoyeux. He it was who in 1581 produced the "_Ballet Comique de la Royne_," to celebrate the marriage of the Duc de Joyeuse. This piece, which was magnificently appointed, and of which the representation is said to have cost 3,600,000 francs, was an entertainment consisting of songs, dances, and spoken dialogue, and appears to have been the model of the masques which were afterwards until the middle of the 17th century represented in England, and of most of the ballets performed in France until about the same period. There were dancers engaged at the French Opera from its very commencement, but it was difficult to obtain them in any numbers, and, worst of all, there were no female dancers to be found. The company of vocalists could easily be recruited from the numerous cathedral choirs; for the Ballet there were only the dancing-masters of the capital to select from, the profession of dancing-mistress not having yet been invented. Nymphs, dryads, and shepherdesses were for some time represented by young boys, who, like the fauns, satyrs, and all the rest of the dancing troop wore masks. At last, however, in 1681, Terpsich.o.r.e was worthily represented by dancers of her own s.e.x, and an aristocratic corps de ballet was formed, with Madame la Dauphine, the Princess de Conti, and Mdlle. de Nantes as princ.i.p.al dancers, supported by the Dauphin, the Prince de Conti and the Duke de Vermandois. They appeared in the _Triomphe de l'Amour_, and the astounding exhibition was fully appreciated. Previously, the ladies of the court, when they appeared in ballets, had confined themselves to reciting verses, which sometimes, moreover, were said for them by an orator engaged for the purpose. To see a court lady dancing on the stage was quite a novelty; hence, no doubt, the success of that spectacle.

[Sidenote: QUADRILLES AND COUNTRY DANCES.]

The first celebrated _ballerina_ at the French Opera was Mademoiselle La Fontaine, styled _la reine de la danse_--a t.i.tle of which the value was somewhat diminished by the fact that there were only three other professional danseuses in Paris. Lulli, however, paid great attention to the ballet, and under his direction it soon gained importance. To Lulli, who occasionally officiated as ballet-master, is due the introduction of rapid style of dancing, which must have contrasted strongly with the stately solemn steps that were alone in favour at the Court during the early days of Louis XIV's reign. The minuet-loving Louis had notoriously an aversion for gay brilliant music. Thus he failed altogether to appreciate the talent of "little Baptiste" not Lulli, but Anet, a pupil of Corelli, who is said to have played the sonatas of his master very gracefully, and with an "agility" which at that time was considered prodigious. The Great Monarch preferred the heavy monotonous strains of his own Baptiste, the director of the Opera. It may here be not out of place to mention that Lulli's introduction of a lively mode of dancing into France (it was only in his purely operatic music that he was so lugubriously serious) took place simultaneously with the importation from England of the country-dance--and corrupted into _contre-danse_, which is now the French for quadrille. Moreover, when the French took our country-dance, a name which some etymologists would curiously enough derive from its meaningless corruption--we adopted their minuet which was first executed in England by the Marquis de Flamarens, at the Court of Charles II. The pa.s.sion of our English n.o.blemen for country-dances is recorded as follows in the memoirs of the Count de Grammont:--"Russel was one of the most vigorous dancers in England, I mean for country-dances (_contre-danses_). He had a collection of two or three hundred arranged in tables, which he danced from the book; and to prove that he was not old, he sometimes danced till he was exhausted. His dancing was a good deal like his clothes; it had been out of fashion twenty years."

Every one knows that Louis XIV. was a great actor; and even his mother, Anne of Austria, appeared on the stage at the Court of Madrid to the astonishment and indignation of the Spaniards, who said that she was lost for them, and that it was not as Infanta of Spain, but as Queen of France, that she had performed.

On the occasion of Louis XIV.'s marriage with Marie Therese, the celebrated expression _Il n'y plus de Pyrenees_ was ill.u.s.trated by a ballet, in which a French nymph and a Spanish nymph sang a duet while half the dancers were dressed in the French and half in the Spanish costume.

Like other ill.u.s.trious stars, Louis XIV. took his farewell of the stage more than once before he finally left it. His Histrionic Majesty was in the habit both of singing and dancing in the court ballets, and took great pleasure in reciting such graceful compliments to himself as the following:--

"Plus brilliant et mieux fait que tous les dieux ensemble La terre ni le ciel n'ont rien qui me ressemble."

(_Thetis et Pelee._--Benserade. 1654),

"Il n'est rien de si grand dans toute la nature Selon l'ame et le cur au point ou je me vois; De la terre et de moi qui prendra la mesure Trouvera que la terre est moins grande que moi."

(_L'Impatience._--Benserade. 1661).

On the 15th February, 1669, Louis XIV. sustained his favourite character of the Sun, in _Flora_, the eighteenth ballet in which he had played a part--and the next day solemnly announced that his dancing days were over, and that he would exhibit himself no more. The king had not only given his royal word, but for nine months had kept it, when Racine produced his _Britannicus_, in which the following lines are spoken by "Narcisse" in reference to Nero's performances in the amphitheatre.

Pour toute ambition pour vertu singuliere Il excelle a conduire un char dans la carriere; A disputer des prix indignes des ses mains, A se donner lui-meme en spectacle aux Romains, A venir prodiguer sa voix sur un theatre A reciter des chants qu'il veut qu'on idolatre; Tandis que des soldats, de moments en moments, Vont arracher pour lui des applaudiss.e.m.e.nts.

[Sidenote: LOUIS RETURNS TO THE STAGE.]

The above lines have often been quoted as an example of virtuous audacity on the part of Racine, who, however, did not write them until the monarch who at one time did not hesitate to "_se donner lui meme en spectacle_, &c.," had confessed his fault and vowed never to repeat it; so that instead of a lofty rebuke, the verses were in fact an indirect compliment neatly and skilfully conveyed. So far from profiting by Racine's condemnation of Nero's frivolity and shamelessness, and retiring conscience-stricken from the stage (of which he had already taken a theatrical farewell) Louis XIV. reappeared the year afterwards, in _Les amants magnifiques_, a _Comedie-ballet_, composed by Moliere and himself, in which the king figured and was applauded as author, ballet-master, dancer, mime, singer, and performer on the flute and guitar. He had taken lessons on the latter instrument from the celebrated Francisco Corbetta, who afterwards made a great sensation in England at the Court of Charles II.

If Louis XIV. did not scruple to a.s.sume the part of an actor himself, neither did he think it unbecoming that his n.o.bles should do the same, even in presence of the general public and on the stage of the Grand Opera. "We wish, and it pleases us," he says in the letters patent granted to the Abbe Perrin, the first director of the Academie Royale de Musique (1669) "that all gentlemen (_gentilshommes_) and ladies may sing in the said pieces and representations of our Royal Academy without being considered for that reason to derogate from their t.i.tles of n.o.bility, or from their privileges, rights and immunities." Among the n.o.bles who profited by this permission and appeared either as singers, or as dancers at the Opera, were the Seigneur du Porceau, and Messieurs de Chasre and Borel de Miracle; and Mesdemoiselles de Castilly, de Saint Christophe, and de Camargo. Another privilege accorded to the Opera was of such an infamous nature that were it not for positive proof we could scarcely believe it to have existed. It had full control, then, over all persons whose names were once inscribed on its books; and if a young girl went of her own accord, or was persuaded into presenting herself at the Opera, or was led away from her parents and her name entered on the lists by her seducer--then in neither case had her family any further power over her. _Lettres de cachet_ even were issued, commanding the persons named therein to join the Opera; and thus the Count de Melun got possession of both the Camargos. The Duke de Fronsac was enabled to perpetrate a similar act of villany. He it is who is alluded to in the following lines by Gilbert:--

"Qu'on la seduise! Il dit: ses eunuques discrets, Philosophes abbes, philosophes valets, Intriguent, s.e.m.e.nt l'or, trompent les yeux d'un pere, Elle cede, on l'enleve; en vain gemit sa mere.

_Echue a l'Opera par un rapt solennel,_ _Sa honte la derobe au pouvoir paternel._"

[Sidenote: INVENTION OF THE BALLET.]

As for men they were sent to the Opera as they were sent to the Bastille. Several amateurs, abbes and others, the beauty of whose voices had been remarked, were arrested by virtue of _lettres de cachet_, and forced to appear at the Academie Royale de Musique, which had its conscription like the army and navy. On the other hand, we have seen that the pupils and a.s.sociates of the Academie enjoyed certain privileges, such as freedom from parental restraint and the right of being immoral; to which was afterwards added that of setting creditors at defiance. The pensions of singers, dancers, and musicians belonging to the Opera were exempted from all liability to seizure for debt.

The dramatic ballet, or _ballet d'action_, was invented by the d.u.c.h.ess du Maine. We soon afterwards imported it into England as, in Opera, we imported the chorus, which was also a French invention, and one for which the musical drama can scarcely be too grateful. The dramatic _ballet_, however, has never been naturalized in this country. It still crosses over to us occasionally, and when we are tired of it goes back again to its native land; but even as an exotic, it has never fairly taken root in English soil.

The d.u.c.h.ess du Maine was celebrated for her _Nuits de Sceaux_, or _Nuits Blanches_, as they were called, which the n.o.bles of Louis XIV.'s Court found as delightful as they found Versailles dull. The d.u.c.h.ess used to get up lotteries among her most favoured guests, in which the prizes were so many permissions to give a magnificent entertainment. The letters of the alphabet were placed in a box, and the one who drew O had to get up an opera; C stood for a comedy; B for a ballet; and so on. The hostess of Sceaux had not only a pa.s.sion for theatrical performances, but also a great love of literature, and the idea occurred to her of realising on the stage of her own theatre something like one of those pantomimes of antiquity of which she had read the descriptions with so much pleasure. Accordingly, she took the fourth act of _Les Horaces_, had it set to music by Mouret, just as if it were to be sung, and caused this music to be executed by the orchestra alone, while Balon and Mademoiselle Prevost, who were celebrated as dancers, but had never attempted pantomime before, played in dumb show the part of the last Horatius, and of Camilla, the sister of the Curiatii. The actor and actress entered completely into the spirit of the new drama, and performed with such truthfulness and warmth of emotion as to affect the spectators to tears.

Mouret, the musical director of _Les Nuits Blanches_, composed several operas and _ballets_ for the Academie; but when the establishment at Sceaux was broken up, after the discovery of the Spanish conspiracy, in which the d.u.c.h.ess du Maine was implicated, he considered himself ruined, went mad and died at Charenton in the lunatic asylum.

[Sidenote: THE FREE LIST.]

"Long live the Regent, who would rather go to the Opera than to the Ma.s.s," was the cry when on the death of Louis XIV., the reins of government were a.s.sumed by the Duke of Orleans. At this time the whole expenses of the Opera, including chorus, ballet, musicians, scene painters, decorators, &c.--from the prima donna to the bill-sticker--amounted only to 67,000 francs a year, being considerably less than half what is given now to a first-rate soprano alone. The first act of the Regent in connexion with the Opera was to take its direction out of the hands of musicians, and appoint the Duc d'Antin manager. The new _impresario_, wishing to reward Thevanard, who was at that time the best singer in France, offered him the sum of 600 francs.

Thevanard indignantly refused it, saying "that it was a suitable present, at most, for his valet," upon which d'Antin proposed to imprison the singer for his insolence, but abstained from doing so, for fear of irritating the public with whom Thevanard was a prodigious favourite. He, however, resigned the direction of the Opera, saying that he "wished to have nothing more to do with such _canaille_."

The next operatic edict of the Regent had reference to the admission of authors, who hitherto had enjoyed the privilege of free entry to the pit. In 1718 the Regent raised them to the amphitheatre--not as a mark of respect, but in order that they might be the more readily detected and expelled in case of their forming cabals to hiss the productions of their rivals, which, standing up in the pit in the midst of a dense crowd, they had been able to do with impunity. Even to the present day, when authors exchange applause much more freely than hisses, the regulations of the French theatre do not admit them to the pit, though they have free access to every other part of the house.

At the commencement of the 18th century, the Opera was the scene of frequent disturbances. The Count de Talleyrand, MM. de Montmorency, Gineste, and others, endeavouring to force their way into the theatre during a rehearsal, were repulsed by the guard, and Gineste killed. The Abbes Hourlier and Barentin insulted M. Fieubet; they were about to come to blows when the guard separated them and carried off the obstreperous ecclesiastics to For l'Eveque, where they were confined for a fortnight.

On their release Hourlier and Barentin, accompanied by a third abbe, took their places in the balcony over the stage, and began to sing, louder even than the actors, maintaining, when called to order, that the Opera was established for no other purpose, and that if they had a right to sing anywhere, it was at the Academie de Musique.

[Sidenote: PETER THE GREAT AT THE OPERA.]

A bal.u.s.trade separated the stage balconies from the stage, but continual attempts were made to get over it, and even to break into the actresses'

dressing rooms, which were guarded by sentinels. At this period about a third of the _habitues_ used to make their appearance in a state of intoxication, the example being set by the Regent himself, who could proceed direct from his residence in the Palais Royal to the Opera, which adjoined it. To the first of the Regent's masked b.a.l.l.s the Councillor of State, Rouille, is said to have gone drunk from personal inclination, and the Duke de Noailles in the same condition, out of compliment to the administrator of the kingdom.

When Peter the Great visited the French Opera, in 1717, he does not appear to have been intoxicated, but he went to sleep. When he was asked whether the performance had wearied him, he is said to have replied, that on the contrary he liked it to excess, and had gone to sleep from motives of prudence. This story, however, does not quite accord with the fact that Peter introduced public theatrical performances into Russia, and encouraged his n.o.bles to attend them.